Designed to unwind, Mindy’s mind finds a portal into a fifth dimension, being co-planar on the sphere of Damocles, the politician’s lesser-known half-brother.
Smothered by the looming looms of the Luddites, Mindy brought Brother Damocles to his knees of unrest and pilfered his swollen soul with yearnings for peas and carrots. Alongside fifty sweet chisels, a wrath of gods portended the end of the universe with their omnipotent potentates of pretentious pompadours. A romp among the daisies gave Mindy an idea, and Brother Damocles asked for his sword back so he could catch that fishy fish of Vichy completely unawares, but de Gaulle had the gall to defend Gaul from the general shivers of the canals on Mars, war being a thing of the past and future but not the present present.
Unwound, Mindy was bound to the promises she found in the hound of Damocles, and that made all the difference.
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May these wonderful stories never end. Every time I wonder what more could happen, what could happen… To the infinity of your imagination, many more Merry Christmas!… Let the bells on all the horses’ hooves be heard, let the Moon, which has passed the night watch, make rain stars and drums in the distance,… let the story begin now… let it be said, “every day, in every season”… Thank you, Love, nia
Thank you, Nia. I do wonder myself at the endless and varied words that come forth. I’ll share them as long as they keep coming. Merry Christmas. 😀